


Better than a kiss?

by Shamione



Series: Dramione One Shots [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Blow Jobs, Canon Divergence - Post-Hogwarts, Draco is a simp, Eventual Smut, F/M, First Time Blow Jobs, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Good Draco Malfoy, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Hermione wants hers, Lawyer Hermione Granger, Like a pretty big simp, Mutual Pining, New Year's Eve, New Year's Fluff, New Year's Kiss, POV Draco Malfoy, PWP without Porn, Pining, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Post-Canon, Post-Hogwarts, Post-War, Sex, Shameless Smut, Smut, Sweet, This enough tags yet?, Unspeakable Draco Malfoy, Vaginal Sex, no seriously, she gets it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-16
Updated: 2020-12-16
Packaged: 2021-03-10 17:54:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,958
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28111227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shamione/pseuds/Shamione
Summary: It's New Year's Eve, again, and Draco and Hermione are attending yet another Gala at the Ministry. Though, this year is a bit different. Narcissa has planned a "countdown to the kiss" theme, relishing the Muggle romanticisms of the evening in television and cinema. What happens when a flash of bobbed raven hair appears over Hermione's shoulder just seconds before the clock strikes midnight?Porn with plot. E for a reason.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy
Series: Dramione One Shots [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1872553
Comments: 15
Kudos: 225
Collections: Completed/Downloaded/Read Works





	Better than a kiss?

**Author's Note:**

> No beta. Written based on a prompt by Robin on Facebook. I saw it and loved it, so here's the output. :)

Draco had to commend his mother for she'd genuinely outdone herself. What had the Ministry expected when granting her an unlimited allowance to transform the dark, dungeonesque ballroom into a winter wonderland for the annual New Year's Gala? When one offered Narcissa Malfoy endless galleons, she used them.

Though per usual, Narcissa had taken her assignment with the utmost seriousness - it was her career, after all. The room indeed was a wonderland, this year's decorations transcending each year before, surpassing even those of her first decorated Gala six years ago - the first major event following the end of the war. Brilliant blue sconces painted the chamber in a midnight hue that danced along the snow-covered branches of fragrant, fresh-cut pine trees lining the walls. Tables with towering, white floral centerpieces surrounded a dance floor crowded with primarily drunken wizards and witches wearing delighted grins. The food was incredible, the seemingly endless champagne and firewhiskey an inevitable plus.

But the most captivating piece of it all? Well, that was the stunning, intelligent, kind-hearted witch that stood before Draco, cheeks flushed from a touch too much champagne. She bore a smile more luminous than the light reflecting off the soft snow flurries overhead, flecks of honey sparkling in her caramel-colored eyes as she laughed.

Yes, Hermione Granger was unquestionably the most bewitching part of the evening.

She looked striking, draped in a sequin-covered midnight blue gown that matched his vest perfectly. The dress' shimmer echoed memories of her begrudgingly shopping alongside himself and his mother a few weeks earlier. She'd abhorred the whole process, yet lingered in each store longer than she'd fancied with a smile on her lips simply to please Narcissa. A smile that had made her even more alluring.

The two extraordinary witches' friendship had flourished swiftly, Narcissa extending a motherly love that Hermione had lost with the erasure of her parents' memories. Sure she had Potter and the Weasleys, but when it became apparent the bond between her and the Weasel would never flourish, the Weasley matriarch had grown slightly standoffish. Hermione and Narcissa were quite similar, in that they both relished reading and watching inordinately rubbish television. During their mandatory weekly movie nights, they prattled on about books, the Ministry, and all things wizarding.

Draco was convinced that she visited the Manor so often solely to see his mother, though he didn't mind. Because stepping out from his study to her smiling face and perpetually unruly curls, arm laced with Narcissa's, brought more happiness than he ever thought he'd have.

"Have you zoned out again?" Hermione's soft voice floated through his haze of memory.

"I haven't," Draco smirked, drawing his glass of champagne to his lips. "I'm merely trying to comprehend the kissing."

Hermione chuckled exasperatedly. "How many times must I explain this?"

"Until you offer a sounder reason than 'just because.'"

She pursed her lips to the right, doe-eyes glimpsing up at him with what he hoped was adoration. "The kissing stems from ancient Roman's Saturnalia festivals, or better known as -"

"Midwinter or winter solstice celebrations," Draco laughed. "I am aware."

Hermione rolled her eyes lightheartedly. "Yes, exactly. Europeans adopted some of the ideas, and it morphed into whoever was the first person you came into contact with would be a significant force in your life the following year. And what better way to come in contact with someone than kissing?"

The small tug of her bottom lip between her teeth was irresistible, so much so Draco nearly forgot to respond. "Would a handshake not do? Hell, even a hug?"

"Sure, the practice is rather unpragmatic. Cinema and television have romanticized the importance for decades," Hermione continued, a tender smile on her lips. "I suppose the action has lost much of its meaning. These days, most Muggles find someone at whatever pub they're in at the time to lock lips. Though it appeared to work well for Harry and Ronald."

"How so?"

"Both snogged their then-girlfriends on New Years'. Harry proceeded to propose to Luna just months later, and, well, we both know what happened with Ron and Lavender's wedding."

Draco did remember the rather abrupt wedding two Junes prior. Brown had become pregnant, and an utterly joyous Molly Weasley had the wedding planned within a week. Draco remembered it thoroughly because, technically, it had been he and Hermione's first and only date. He'd offered to escort her after Roger Davies had broken her heart, astounding both she and Theo in the Ministry's cafeteria with his pronouncement.

She'd been hesitant to accept, understandable with the Weasel's lingering disdain of anything Slytherin. But she'd agreed, and Draco was so glad she had.

The excessive quantity of shoddy elfwine he'd drank that night hadn't obscured his memories, and for that, he was thankful. He would forever treasure how it had felt to hold her securely within his arms as they'd danced together for the first time. He'd always cherish how smooth her fingers had felt laced through his as they wandered hand in hand along the dusty, moonlight grounds of the Burrow and the way she'd snorted as she drunkenly giggled at the undoubtedly unfunny jokes he'd told. The shy yet somewhat coy smile she'd worn as they lingered in her flat's doorway frequented his dreams, and the way she shifted from foot to foot, giggling with charming, intoxicating mirth twinkling in her eyes captivated his daydreams.

He hadn't wanted to leave that night, but he had. Though, not before leaning in to brush his lips against her cheek. He'd never forget the crimson that colored her neck as he'd bowed smoothly, turning to leave before he'd done something dangerous.

"How could I ever forget?" Draco smiled, rather lopsided, and Hermione pursed her lips shyly again. "Wizardkind believes a bit differently, though."

"Oh? Ron's family acted very similarly. And the Gala's invite said -"

"This year's ' _countdown to kiss_ ' theme is your doing, Granger. You shouldn't have introduced Mother to Muggle cinema," Draco laughed, followed closely by Hermione's guilty yet teasing shrug. "We don't rely on the same romanticisms as Muggles. We believe whomever you spend the final evening of the year with will be an important part of the next year."

Hermione giggled, something she did only after a few glasses of alcohol. "It's not so different."

"It's similar, yes," Draco conceded, smirking softly. "But we don't need to snog."

A faint blush worked across her features as she drew her champagne flute to her lips, scuffing the toe of her kitten heel on the floor. "Perhaps you're missing out."

Ow, the hammering of his heart at the crimson on her cheeks and the implication he hoped he heard in her tone was nearly uncomfortable. "Perhaps I am…

Older families are more traditional, in that whoever you spend your Yule with will be an influential figure in your life. That is why we have smaller Christmas celebrations with only those we want to be important the following year."

"We've spent Christmas together for the past four years."

"We have," Draco smirked, relishing the deeper blush that crimsoned her cheeks.

"Good evening, good evening!" Minister Shaklebolt's bombing _Sonorous_ charm echoed around the chamber, the slow tunes of music fading away. "We are almost to our ultimate moment, my friends!"

Hermione sighed a reluctant sound, turning toward the main stage where the Minister stood, floating closer into Draco's space. So close that her body's warmth was palpable, the lingering fragrance of the perfume his mother had gifted her days prior overtly intoxicating. She glanced up at him over her shoulder for a moment, and her mound of unruly curls scarcely hid the smile on her lips as she turned away.

Fuck, he was so screwed.

"Firstly, we must thank the good lady Narcissa Black for draining the Ministry's vaults to bring us tonight's event," Shaklebolt announced mirthfully, hosting his glass toward where Draco's mother stood. The room broke into titters, everyone raising their glasses in a toast.

"And secondly, we should thank you _all_ for attending and supporting the Ministry with all you do.

Let us raise a toast to all we have accomplished this year, to everything you wish to leave behind, and to those things you want to carry with you into your future. To those you may miss and to those you love and cherish. Cheers!"

"Cheers!" the room sang.

Draco leaned in close to Hermione's ear, wrapping the arm that held his glass around her front. "Cheers, Granger."

"Cheers, Draco. Here's to our next year," she responded with tenderness on her features, a delicate yet dangerous smile crossing her lips as she lightly tapped their glasses together.

Her captivating gaze never broke his as they tilted their flutes of champagne upward. She turned, and Draco had to check the urge to reach out and draw her in. They were friends - had been for some time. Even though he couldn't stop himself from pining after her touch, she didn't appear to feel the same. He wished the yearning he'd seen in her eyes on occasion meant something, but their first date hadn't turned into a second.

For many years he hadn't minded. They had still seen each other three times a week for lunch and spent weekends piddling around the Manor or in her flat. They watched movies with his Mother once a week and grabbed dinner with their friends every Friday. And all of that had been enough, had been, but his resolve was slowly fading.

A large, shimmering '30' appeared on the ceiling, slowly ticking down as the seconds fleeted by. The shimmering lights reflected off of Hermione's eyes, which darted across his face as her smile widened.

Draco swallowed thickly. "We should find the group."

"Harry took Luna home to rest her ankles, and Ron and Lavender left hours ago." She giggled before adding, "And Blaise and Ginny are probably off snogging in a closet somewhere."

"Theo?"

"Theo can manage without us for a bit. It's just you and I, Draco."

_Just you and I._

And Pansy Fucking Parkinson. Draco tried not to wince as a shock of raven-colored hair appeared over Hermione's shoulder on the room's opposite side. A determined pair of hazel eyes were targeted undeviatingly upon him, and he felt a shiver work down his spine. If he never saw Pansy again, he'd be magnificent. She'd recently become an overly tiresome nuisance, attempting to cozy up to himself and his mother.

Over the past two months, she'd appeared at the Manor to sup tea with Narcissa before he arrived home from the Ministry. She'd then lingered for much longer than Draco liked, drawing him into inane conversations and sitting too closely on his study's sofa. And here she was now, pushing through the crowd with the same resolution in her eyes he'd seen so regularly at Hogwarts when she had tried to draw him into an alcove.

"10!"

"9!"

"8!"

"7!"

Fuck, he had to do something. It appeared Pansy was on the warpath, her round-face stretched into a determined smirk as she stomped across the room. She undoubtedly wasn't the person he wanted as a significant feature in his life next year.

No. No, the person standing right before him was the only person he wanted as the main highlight of his life. Draco's heart thudded in his chest as an idea floated into his mind. A plan that left his eyes glued to Hermione's plump, pink lips, and his hand lightly trembling as he set down his glass of champagne.

"6!"

"5!"

"4!"

Draco flicked his eyes toward Pansy once more and panicked somewhat, glancing around the room before his eyes settled back onto the soft smile on Hermione's face. The softness he found there was like a supplication his soul needed.

Fuck, she was beautiful. Glittering caramel flakes in a pair of brown eyes that held no match. Her nose was adorably buttoned, slightly crooked, and painted with a line of winter-dimmed freckles. She had the most alluring smile Draco had ever seen. But above all else, the kindness that laced all of her actions made her unconventional beauty unconditionally breathtaking.

He couldn't get enough of her. In spirit and his dreams. At the Ministry and in every fleeting daydream. Friday nights when they were nestled together in a pub's booth with friends and when she'd visit the Manor simply to tell his Mother hello.

Everywhere he turned, it was Hermione Granger, and Draco didn't wish it any other way.

"Forgive me, Granger," he murmured.

"3!"

"2!"

Whatever nervousness lingered in his gut exploded as the room sang " _One_ ," and he drew the glass of champagne from her hand, dropping it beside his. He moved purposefully, wrapping a hand around her waist to tug her in close. Though, Hermione didn't appear to mind as his fingers smoothed against the softness of her cheek, gently coiling around her neck. No, she seemed… excited? Admittedly stunned, but elated, nonetheless.

Her near-pleading expression set his soul aflame as he purposely leaned in. And when her eyes fluttered shut, lips separating as her hands slid up his torso to rest softly upon his chest, he couldn't help himself.

The last thing he saw as his eyes slipped closed in pleasure was Pansy stomping a petulant foot onto the floor.

Sure, he'd used Parkinson's oncoming approach as an excuse, but, fuck, Draco couldn't deny that he'd craved this moment for years. He'd dreamt of pulling Hermione in close and feeling the warmth of her chest hugged against him. To feel her lips caressed against his.

But this? Fuck - _this_ was better than he ever could have envisioned. Far more intense. Her lips were softer than he'd anticipated, and her satisfied whimper as she drifted further into him was like a surge of absolute rapture. The world around them appeared to melt away, the sole thing that mattered now the passion that danced between them.

He pulled back long, delightful moments later, but her hands tightened in his jacket, tugging to keep him close. "I'm not finished with you yet..."

"There you are!" A deep, flirtatious voice sang from across the room.

"I guess he can't," Hermione sighed, rocking her head with a laugh.

Draco wanted to groan aloud as her hands released his suit jacket and fell away. Craved to hold her in place against him when she stepped back, putting much too much distance between them. Curse Theo Nott to the depths of hell for _impeccable_ timing.

"I've been looking everywhere for you, mate," Theo grinned, clapping a hand on Draco's shoulder as he strolled up. He bowed somewhat sarcastically toward Hermione. "M'lady."

She giggled in return, curtsying. "M'lord."

"I don't understand you two."

Theo laughed, slinging an arm around Draco's shoulder as Hermione offered, "When you're stuck in a tiny office together for hours at a time, you develop a few inside jokes."

"Speaking of the office! Granger, we should be celebrating!" Theo exclaimed dramatically. "Let's blow this popsicle stand and grab a pint."

"Sorry, Theo," she laughed. "I'm actually thinking of heading home."

Draco felt his eyebrows knit as Theo implored, "Oh, come on, Granger!"

Hermione's eyes floated to Draco's as Theo bent backward, casting his rolled eyes toward the ceiling. She winked quickly, pursing her lips, and Draco felt a hopeful smirk smear across his features. Gods, he desperately hoped that the insinuation he saw in her movements was valid as Theo's arm left his shoulders. Theo stepped between them, cupping both of her shoulders and lightly jostling her.

"We don't have to be at the office tomorrow, and we closed the Werewolf legislation today!"

"And I'm exhausted!"

"Oh, woe is you, Granger! What about you, mate? Are you _exhausted_ too?" Theo mocked energetically as he turned back toward Draco. "Or are you a strapping young lad who fancies going out with me and the two beautiful broads I found to take to the pub?"

Draco's eyes remained glued to Hermione, the frown that flashed over her features unmissable. "Not tonight, Theo."

"You're both busting my balls!" Theo sang. "Come on, mate! How am I to get laid if you're not there to take the other one?"

"Who's to say you can't have both?"

Theo grinned, rather wolfishly, head thrashing dramatically back toward Hermione. "What a splendid idea, Granger! Who needs Draco, anyway?"

"I do," Hermione chuckled, but Draco's heart leaped into his throat. He tried not to gawk as she drifted back closer to him. "I need someone to walk me home, at the least."

"Oh, sure, Granger. Always monopolizing his time," Theo rolled his eyes. "If you two _must_ be so dreadfully lame, then good night."

"I'll see you at the office Friday, Theo."

Theo grinned anew, bowing again with a wink. "Goodnight, Granger! Take care of that one. Make sure he gets home okay. Would be a shame if he turned into a pumpkin."

"Goodbye, Theo," Draco drawled with an annoyed, raised eyebrow.

Theo merely laughed aloud and turned, sauntering away to whoever Draco didn't care.

"So," Hermione's voice echoed, drawing his attention back to her. "Will you? Walk me home?"

Draco smiled lopsidedly, nodding. "Of course, Granger. Whenever you're ready to leave."

She held out her hand to him. "I'm ready."

He nodded, gesturing for their coats, which floated through the room toward them. Draco eased Hermione into hers before donning his own and holding out his hand. Her face quirked up with a hint of delight before she withdrew her wand. She stepped out of her heels, and in an instant, they shimmered into a pair of pumps.

Draco chortled as she slipped them on and stored her wand. "I'm surprised you've worn then this long."

"Your mother would have flayed me if I hadn't!" she snickered, freely lacing their fingers and drawing him toward the door.

Draco let her lead, trying to prevent his lips from stretching into a broad grin. But just before the door, a flash of raven hair caught his eye once again. Though, he had to stop himself from scoffing at the sight.

Pansy stood beside his mother, both women wearing jubilant expressions that sang a very obvious tune. Meddling hags - they'd planned it! The night's theme. Pansy's incessant behavior over the past two months. Their whispers and determined glances. They'd planned every bit of it. Evident by their enormous grins, the flutter of Narcissa's fingers in parting, and the overly dramatic kiss that Pansy blew at him with a wink.

But honestly, he didn't care. How could he?

His fingers were currently intertwined tightly with the one witch he couldn't stop himself from daydreaming of. The one witch he sought every morning before wandering toward the Department of Mysteries and the person he waited for by the Floo each evening. The sole individual that could help him with his work as an Unspeakable without actually having to know anything obscure.

No, he didn't care, rolling his eyes as he wandered hand in hand with Hermione out of the ballroom doors. He tugged her toward the guest exit, her flat not a far walk. But she yanked him back toward the Floos.

"I thought you said we were walking?"

"Well, we're walking to the Floos, aren't we?" she tittered. "It's too cold outside."

"Whatever you say," Draco acquiesced happily, allowing Hermione to drag him through the Floo into her modest sitting room.

She dropped his hand, kicking off her flats and raising the hem of her dress to wander down the hallway. "Do you want a change of clothes?"

"I doubt I'll look as good as you in a frilly nighty, Granger."

"Hush!" Her voice echoed down the hallway. "You know I have some of your clothes."

A pair of black joggers and one of his many missing tee-shirts floated from her hallway a moment later. He merely smirked, laying his coat over the back of a chair before ducking into her spare loo to change. When he emerged, content, she was already relaxing on the sofa. Her mass of curls was piled on her head in a messy bun, and the makeup his mother had practically held her down to apply was gone. She wore another of his missing shirts, just as baggy as the joggers with which she'd paired it.

The tenderness of her expression carried him forward as she patted the spot beside her, lifting a glass of firewhiskey in offering. Salazar, his cheeks fucking hurt from smiling so much tonight, but he let another smirk etch his expression as he slipped the drink from her hands and sank onto the couch.

These were the moments Draco cherished the most, relaxed together in the silence of her small flat, thighs pressed together and her feet nestled underneath her. As she rested her head on his shoulder, and he held her knee in his hand. These were the moments that made him wish they were them. That made him yearn not to leave at the end of the night to go home to a lonely library and a bed much too large to hold only him.

"Hey, Granger," he began following long minutes of comfortable silence. "I'm sorry about…"

With a voice scarcely above a whisper, she responded, "Why do you keep apologizing?"

"Parkinson was coming over, and I just grabbed -"

"I'm happy you did."

Happy. Hermione was happy. Draco was stunned silent for a moment, elation boiling in his heart that colored his cheeks. "I -"

"Draco," she cut in, brushing her fingers across the back of his hand that rested upon her knee. "I have waited so long for you to kiss me. If it took the threat of Pansy to get you to do it, well, perhaps I should thank her."

"You've wanted me to kiss you?"

"Since the night of Ronald's wedding. A kiss on the cheek was nice, but it certainly wasn't what I wanted."

Draco leaned his head a touch further onto hers, flipping his hand over. She signed contentedly, splaying her small hand across his. It shouldn't be erotic. Shouldn't make his heart flutter or thrust into his throat. But her delicate touch and the tease of their fingers lacing and unlacing as she played with his hand made him swallow thickly, hoping to the gods his budding erection didn't show through his joggers.

"You…" he started, voice crackling above a whisper. "I was respecting that you had just split from Davies."

"And the eighteen months after?" she chuckled. "Why do you think Roger and I split, Draco?"

"I... well, I don't know. You haven't told -"

"You."

"Yeah," he agreed. "You haven't told me."

She sat up then, turning toward him with mirth dancing in her eyes as they connected with his. But there was something else there. Something determined. Something resolute. "No, Draco, it was you. You were the reason that Roger and I split."

Was this breathlessness? Was this what it felt like to gaze into the face of beauty and lose the ability to breathe? To lose all rational thought? It hurt and was wholly overwhelming. But gods, he didn't want to let this feeling go. Draco ached to sit here like this with her forever, staring into the grace of absolute goodness.

"I -"

"Evidently, I couldn't stop talking about you. I hadn't realized that every story I told or every memory I shared included you. And when Roger asked me if I liked you as more than a friend… I couldn't say no.

I think you're brilliant, Draco. What you've done since the war and the person you've become is someone I want to be with. Someone that I _love_."

"If…" He couldn't speak. It felt impossible. "Why… why didn't we go on a second date?"

Hermione laughed softly, running her forefinger down his palm, and he felt like a dumbfounded idiot. "Draco, we've essentially been dating for two years."

"I - wait, what?"

"I don't spend time with Theo or Blaise or visit their relatives. Or sit beside them every Friday at the pub or read late Saturday nights on their couches. I do all of that with you. Because I want to do those things with only you."

Yup - dumbstruck. Flabbergasted. Evidently, Draco was the biggest, most clueless, dumbest git on the face of the planet. Hell, in the solar system. He sat for a long moment, his eyes as wide as the gap between his lips.

"Did you truly not realize?"

All he could do was rock his head no as she cupped his hand and lifted it to her chest. She pushed her fingers upward against his palm, flattening it before setting it firmly against her heart. And truthfully, he wasn't sure if he could feel his heart or hers racing against his palm, a thump that pounded a staccato in his ears.

"Can you feel it beating for you?" She whispered, wearing a supplicating look. "For only you?"

His hand shook as he slid it tenderly up her collarbone, relishing the whimper she let out as his fingers trailed up her neck. Draco's fingers slid deftly across her jaw then, brushing a soft thumb over her cheek. She looked utterly divine, yearning for him etched in her features. She leaned into the feeling of him and his warmth, letting her eyes fall closed with anticipation. He ached to push forward and seize her. To feel the roll of their lips together again.

"Kiss me, Draco."

Draco groaned quietly, leaning in and closing the gap between them. Their noses brushed together, breaths quivering in tandem as their lips scarcely met. Hermione was the one to push the final distance, brushing their lips together softly, delicately.

This kiss was different. This time, Hermione was ready. Eager. Her lips were just as soft as they had been earlier that night, lingering sweetness of champagne flavoring their kiss. Draco kissed her once, twice, and a third time before her tongue swept across his bottom lip. His groan of need seemed to spur her, and the raw feeling of her teeth sinking into his bottom lip shot straight to his manhood.

He drew back suddenly, eyes lidded. Though the unadulterated lust that painted Hermione's features made his eyes blow wide. Her pupils were pools of black, rimmed with a luscious brown. She inhaled deeply, a shaking exhale drawing her to a stand. Moving to stand between his legs, she vanished the glass of whiskey he held and offered out her hands.

He smirked, ghosting his fingers against her palms and lacing them through hers, relishing the smile that turned her lips upward and the soft trembling of her hands.

"Granger, what -"

"Come to bed with me."

He didn't need a second invitation. Eagerly he stood as Hermione backed away, a simper on her face as she dropped his hands and turned. Draco stepped into her, and the tiny whimper of need that echoed from her parted lips as he skimmed his hands around her hips rippled straight to his groin. She swayed, leaning back into him as he nuzzled into the crook of her neck, their bodies melding in a way they never truly had before.

Gods, she was warm. And the feeling of her fingers gliding to the back of his neck, kneading softly before racking through his hair, was purely magical. He breathed, shifting his hands under her borrowed shirt. The shiver of her body and the sighs of satisfaction that filled her humble sitting room sparked something deep inside him.

Gripping her shirt, he lifted it, and she eagerly raised her arms, letting the fabric slide from her body to the floor. Even from over her shoulders, he could see how perfect her tits were, nipples already pebbled from desire. He brushed his fingers up her stomach, cupping her bust with a gentle pressure that drew a melodious moan. Though, she giggled before wiggling out from his grasp, turning to face him.

Fuck, she was the most beautiful creature he'd ever seen. Bathed in the soft light of her fireplace, bottom lip pulled between her teeth. Face flushed and chest visibly swelling as she pushed eagerly onto her toes and hooked a finger at him before turning to race down the hallway, giggling.

He couldn't help but chuckle, thick with lust, as he shed his shirt and dropped it beside hers. By the time he made it through Hermione's bedroom door, she was already on all fours on the bed, back bent with her jogger-covered arse in the air.

"Come here, Draco."

He'd never heard her voice so husky, so lustful, and the sound made his cock thump impossibly harder. He did as commanded, smoothly stepping before her on the bed.

"Granger -"

"Shhh, Draco," she whispered.

Fucking hell, the lust in her eyes as she stared up at him, skimming her fingers along the band of his joggers, ripped a growl from his throat. Though, the widening of her eyes as she dragged them down and his cock sprang free made him chuckle darkly.

"Did you expect otherwise?" he smirked.

But her huff of indignation, laced with determination, made his cock throb. Ripples of lust traveled to the base of his spine as her soft hands wrapped around his length, making him hiss in anticipation. And he had to stop himself from seizing her hair unrestrainedly when she turned his own patented smirk against him.

Teasingly, she worked her tongue around the tip of his manhood, slowly pumping her hands up and down the length. Draco's jaw tense with the anticipation of her mouth's sweet warmth wrapping around him, making him inhale a shuddered breath.

Though he couldn't have anticipated just how heavenly her lips would feel enclosed around him. Or the pleasure of her tongue pressing against his cock as she bobbed her head. Or the unadulterated lust on her face as she peered up at him, watching him enjoy the way her hands and mouth worked in tandem to take in his length.

Hermione's head bounced deliberately, sucking just enough to make his soul sing as her hands pumped the space she couldn't take. Up and down. Slowly, then with a vigor that made his hands lace through her wild curls. She purred eagerly, gagging lightly as her mouth moved, vibrating pleasure throughout his body.

Fuck, he could feel his release building rapidly, her soft yet expert ministrations bringing him to a quick summit of bliss. But there was no way he'd get his before she'd even had an ounce of satisfaction. Draco gripped her curls roughly, and she whined as he drew his cock from her lips, glancing up at him with tears of desire.

Swiftly, he moved his hand around her neck and drew her up, pulling her onto her knees and crushing their lips together as she moaned. Lustfully. Passionately. Yet somehow soft and absolute. Delicate and pleading. Giving and taking. She _liked_ it. The roughness of his kiss and the pulsing of his hand around her throat. Apparent in the way her nails sank into his chest, trembling.

She whimpered, trying to pull him back as he drew back.

"Lie back."

Pliantly, she fell backward onto the bed, curls splaying a chestnut frame about her face that bore a satisfied grin. He stepped out of his joggers before hooking fingers in the bands of hers and drawing them down.

Fucking hell, she wasn't wearing any knickers, the sweet scent of her arousal floating through the air as her legs fell wide. There were so many versions of her that he loved. The bossy woman she was in the courtroom. The bubbly person she was around her friends. The caring woman she was when she held him in his darkest hours.

But this her? _This_ might be his favorite of them all. Unfiltered. Lustful. Eager, skimming her hands down her body to grip the junction of her hips and biting her lip. Inviting him. Teasing him. Wholly open and unashamed.

Crawling onto the bed, he had to stop himself from falling immediately into her. No, she deserved more. She deserved to be cherished and praised. Draco leaned down into her, caressing their lips together in a languid kiss as he aligned their middles. He rocked his hips slowly, admiring the trembling of her hands as they circled his neck. Relishing the whimpers and the soft pressure of her nails digging into his back as their bodies moved together.

Her legs rose, hips angling so that his manhood slipped between her folds, coating through her wetness and brushing against her clit. She moaned softly, grinding her hips against him as their lips met in lazy kisses.

Though, it appeared her patience with his languid movements vanished behind a cry of need. Her hand shifted between them, taking ahold of his length and aligning his head with her slit. Draco smirked, pushing his hips forward until his tip slipped into an unimaginable warmth. Could a person die from happiness? Because it felt like his heart might explode as he rocked slowly, her quivering hands a guide until he was fully sheathed inside.

"Fuck, Granger, your cunt's so soft."

"Move, please," she moaned pleadingly. "Please, Draco."

"No need to beg," he whispered with delight.

But her response died into a moan as he withdrew and slid effortless back into her warmth. Draco pressed his head into the junction of Hermione's neck with a sigh, rocking smoothly into her fervent slit. Her sigh echoed his, a sound that made apparent her satisfaction at finally being wholly joined with the person she loved.

Draco's movements were slow, intentional, his pelvis pushing to meet each surge of her hips. Forceful thrusts that drove deep inside as his lips sought hers anew. His world began to tunnel, all thoughts and beliefs converging on the sensation of their bodies moving together in a tantalizing tandem.

Enjoyment hummed in his veins as they slowly fucked one another, a sweetness in their crusade making moans fill the air. Gradually, carefully, he felt their movements quicken, growing frantic and needy. One stroke became two. Two strokes became four. And before he could no longer think straight, unintelligible swears were tumbling past her lips as her fingers quivered, sinking into the sensitive flesh of his back anew.

Lascivious slapping of skin saturated the air, wet noises of her want and his mixing with her unintelligible cries. And suddenly, her entire body tensed, nails sinking deeply into his shoulders and her hips thrust upward, toes going taut with a resounding scream. Her walls fluttered around him as her body writhed, a completely etheric sensation. It felt like absolute heaven, and he rammed his hips quicker as her body shook with orgasmic waves of bliss. As she called his name like it was a mantra, praying to him.

It didn't take long for his knot of ecstasy to rupture, exploding as he emptied himself into her fluttering center. Their worlds shattered in tandem, melding together in a swirl of unmitigated lust and unbridled love. Fuck, she looked radiant, head thrown back with her eyes closed in bliss and mouth wide in slowly fading moans. Neck offered freely for him to kiss, face crimsoned with love.

His arms shook before he lowered down onto her, swiping a hand along her forehead to clear away her even wilder curls. She smiled a satiated simper, eyes still closed and face flushed as she drew him in, wrapping her arms and legs around him as he slid his between her back and the mattress. They laid entangled for long, hopeful, unimaginable moments, breaths slowing as her fingers scraped softly along his back.

She giggled again, kissing his cheek before whispering, "Hell of a second date, Draco."

**Author's Note:**

> Did you catch the reference back to my other New Year's Eve fic, [Stellarium?](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24007060/chapters/64532941) If not, you should go read that one, too. ;)
> 
> Concrit, love and kudos are ALWAYS appreciated.


End file.
